


How Do Mates Say, ‘I Love You’?

by Kairat11



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Cas, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Omega, Destiel valentine's day, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mating, Omega Dean, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day Fluff, cas is devoted as always, dean is sick, destiel au, ‘So fluffy you’ll need new teeth by the end of it’
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9718754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairat11/pseuds/Kairat11
Summary: Its Valentine's Day. Dean is sick with the flu, but very horny. Cas is trying to take care of him, but his mate is making it very difficult. Dean wants his Alpha to take care of him in another way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, 
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> Happy reading~

 

 

        Taking advantage of the alone time he had, since Cas was in the kitchen cooking dinner (which smelled heavenly by the way and made his stomach grumble, even though he wasn’t particularly hungry), after giving Dean a sponge bath and helping him get into clean boxers and t-shirt, he stumbled out of bed. Dean’s head felt dizzy and light but at the same time heavy, like a balloon filled with water and smoke, and his inner muscles cramped horribly, it felt as if he was being stabbed from the inside with a thousand tiny needles. His skin was afire yet he felt cold; his energy was almost drained and dreamland called him, yet the need to feel his mate was strong and more desperate. The flu had got him good, but the way he felt in part was a telltale of his fast-approaching Heat.

         Venturing a few drunken-like steps towards the antique white dresser that had seen better days, but which his husband insisted he could restore, he bent his aching body and stretched one of his arms to open the bottom drawer. A tiny quirk curled his parched lips as he pulled out a plastic Target bag containing the small parcel of Valentine’s Day items he had bought a few days ago.

        He should definitely stay away from the dollar section, it was dangerous for his pocket. Dean wasn’t one to celebrate Valentine’s Day enthusiastically, but Cas was a hopeless romantic and enjoyed celebrating every holiday. Ergo, Dean had decided to take matters into his own hands this year. He had planned on having a romantic home-cooked dinner with cheesy decorations, red roses, a bubble bath with those geranium-lavender-rose DYI bath salts his mate made just last week, champagne and chocolates, but then his body decided to screw him over and messed up his plans. But he won’t let this stupid nasty cold ruin it for them, because dammit, it wasn’t fair that the year he had decided to be the best sap he could be, things didn’t want to work in his favor.

          Cas deserved a nice and ultra-lovey-dovey Valentine’ Day, and Dean too, so even though he couldn’t do everything he had planned, he could at least do a few. Maybe light two or three scented candles or ten, put some sexy jazz music on his phone and dim the lights, hang a light-pink/hot-pink ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ banner and set a box of Ferrero Rocher hazelnut chocolates (Cas’s favorites) on one of the nightstands, and a corny as hell white/red 3-D Valentine’s Day pop-up card spelling ‘I♥U’ on the other. Yeah, when he says he’s gonna do something he doesn’t half-ass it (most of the time).

           After he was done with his improvised decorations spree, he was left feeling rather exhausted and dizzier, and his skin stickier with sweat. Every breath he took felt moist and hot as water vapor. After a short break holding onto the gray linen armchair next to one of the large windows, he let his eyes shut close for a few seconds; his head felt so heavy that he had to make a considerable effort to lift it back up from where it rested against his crossed arms. Taking a deep lengthy breath, he gathered some strength and stripped off his clothes. Goosebumps carpeted every inch of his weary body when heated skin met the light cool air lingering about; a shiver shimmied up his body, and when his somewhat stuffy nose got a whiff of his mate’s scent a pulse of slick trickled slowly from between his muscled thighs—syrupy, thick, and hot.

          The rich fragrance of cinnamon and mahogany, freshly rained-on earth and crispy autumn air with a hint of caramelized apples was driving him nuts, it always did. His husband’s scent was a kind of narcotic imbued in the air—Dean couldn’t get away from it nor he wanted to. It was insanely addictive and made him woozy, scattered all his thoughts and mixed with his blood, it clogged every pore and stole his breath. Shaking his head to clear his mind, and then quickly regretting it as he saw double of everything, he pushed the dampened clothes aside with his foot. Afterwards, he reached for something more comfortable and softer to wear. As he crawled back into bed and covered himself with blankets and a heavy white comforter, he smirked despite himself.  

           Dean couldn’t wait to see Cas’s reaction.    

           Before his mate reached the bedroom’s door, and opened it, the fresh potpourri of his Alpha’s natural perfume had alerted Dean of the familiar presence. Yes, he was obsessed and irremediably hooked on Cas’s scent; it was comforting and safe, soft and serene yet lined with a sharp edge of crude steel. Before he saw his husband’s face for the first time at his favorite bakery three years ago, Dean had smelled him past the mouthwatering aromas of cherry pies and vanilla cakes and chocolate-chip cookies, and through his scent dispersed in the air, he had _met_ Castiel. Ridiculous fairytales sometimes weren’t as ridiculous as reality. Because that rainy Autumn afternoon, that specific moment when Cas’s scent greeted him like an overpowering storm shaking his equilibrium, Dean’s life became not a ‘happily ever after’ but something better and less boring—a series of impossibly sweet happy moments highlighting his good fortune and pushing him through the bitter ones.

         When Cas walked into their bedroom, Dean immediately pushed aside the light-gray Egyptian cotton bed sheets and the comforter giving him warmth and keeping away the shivers caused by the flu. Even that slight effort made him tired, but he wasn’t about to let this day be ruined any further. After Cas’s eyes skittered over his almost naked body and they landed on his lower half, the bamboo tray carrying their dinner shook precariously in his Alpha’s hands.

 _Christ Almighty!_ Cas didn’t know how the tray in his hands hadn’t ended in a disastrous mess on the dark hardwood floor, nor how he kept his Alpha side under control. Dean was ill. But Dean also looked glorious, like a supreme being ruling him with just a flutter of his eyelashes. A pair of blush-colored, lace and satin panties exalted his omega’s already breathtaking body, but what made Cas swallow down forcefully and stared with his mouth agape were the words embroidered on them with scarlet thread.

_For Cas._

        Before Cas could speak and try to talk him out of it, he turned his body slightly to show his Alpha the back view. Dean couldn’t help the rumble of laughter that escaped him as he looked over his shoulder, and his husband took in the details.

         The man in front of him really wanted to give him a heart attack. Did his mate designed this magnificent piece of art? The front of the panties were a mix of satin and lace, but the back was all see-through lace and to top it off, a silk bow sat atop an opening trimmed with ruffles that gave a generous peak of his omega’s enticing ass cheeks. By a miracle, he was about to speak, but was quickly silenced.

         Dean brought his index finger to his own lips at the same time he extended his right hand towards him. Castiel walked the steps separating them with restrained enthusiasm, and once close to the bedside table, he carefully set down the tray plentiful with food and drinks. And then, he took Dean’s slightly tremulous hand and let himself be deposited over his omega’s body like a warm cloak. His beloved was so hard against his own quickly hardening erection, and so very wet too. Dean’s intoxicating slick rapidly awoke every savage hungry instinct in him, its potent and savory spicy-fruity aroma had his taste buds watering in an instant, and his nose thoroughly seduced.

          His husband's scent was as if divine incense burning his soul like sacred fire. He was sure that even if he lost his sense of smell, the pores in his body were so intimately acquainted with his mate’s scent that he’ll be able to recognize him in a legion of omegas in heat. Cas wanted Dean so much; he always desired him, always yearned for him when they were apart, and will always long for him when Dean isn’t at his side. Yet, he had to try and fight back the love and desire with the sincere concern knocking loudly behind his chest. 

        “But Dean, you are sick; you have a high fever and you should rest,” he expressed his concern, arms braced on either side of Dean’s head while pious lips scatter affectionate offerings on a clammy forehead.

          “Shush! I’ll rest when you have knotted me full and good, _Cas_. I’m so fucking horny right now that I feel like ‘m gonna go crazy… can barely think. You smell so freakin’ _delicious_ , mmm…Your cock looks ready to go. C’mon, _I need you, Alpha_. Help me. _Open_ your gift.”

          Dean will never cease to amaze him. As he thought about that, the gorgeous man beneath him pivoted them surprisingly fast on the bed. He was no longer looking down into favored eyes, but up into fields of spring greens. The holy creature atop of him, straddling his hips, was akin to a god—such inner strength and enrapturing beauty, indomitable will and preternatural sex appeal was inherently divine. Castiel was hard pressed to think of what he wouldn’t do for the man whose eyes had trapped his heart at first sight.

           Bringing his hands up to his omega’s flushed face, he let the smile pushing at his lips burst free. As he shook his head, his thumbs slid across star-dusted cheeks, and then down to make a blueprint of garnet lips. Lips moist with stuttering hot breaths and two desirous bodies leaning closer, erections grinding against each other and eyes glowing like nebulas—his Dean was like a black hole, pulling him apart with the unrestrained force of his feelings.

           “You are so stubborn. Rebellious. Always making me worry. Always surprising me. Always…,” Cas mused, lost in thought, and strained by the titillating sight of his erotic rider.

            Smiling into the breathless kiss, Dean retorted, “But aren’t those the reasons, _mmm_ … th-that made you fall fo-for me?”

           “Some. They are some of the many reasons _I love you_. There are infinite more…Should I name them?”

            _Fuck!_ He could come just by Cas whispering romantic crap in his ear. It was hard not to let go, even if all they had done was some kissing (albeit, damn good kissing) and rutting their hips together. But the fire inside of him, the itch consuming him, wasn’t going to go away until he was full with his Alpha’s knot and passed out from the exertion.

           Dean was kinda curious about that ‘infinite list’ of things that had made Cas fall in love with him. He thought little about mating, even rejected the idea of it for most of his life. Mating, before Cas was synonym of biology and chemicals, it was cold and clinical and lacked meaning. Not anymore. _How do you explain something that you can’t touch? Or see? Or smell? Or hear? Or taste? You can’t._

           “Not now. Later…Now get naked. I want you to fuck me until I lose consciousness. I want to fuck myself on your dick until I can’t scream anymore.”

           As soon as his clothes were thrown haphazardly on the floor and before he could begin to express his devotion to Dean’s body, his dick was swallowed down in one swift slide by his husband’s rapacious hole. A drawn-out moan and Dean’s cracked name on his lips, knees bent and toes curled, hips propelled up into his mate’s tight walls and hands clasped possessively on lithesome hips—he didn’t know if the reason he was burning up like a gasoline-drenched piece of wood because of Dean’s body heat, or because he had suddenly developed a fever.

          “ _De-Deannn_.”

          Dean’s body was ablaze, it was in part due to the fever but also because of his looming Heat. His flesh had become bedewed by a thin sheen of sweat, which made the pink suffused skin a tempting sight, and his plump puce lips dried by the heat called to Cas’s lips to water them. Malachite eyes gazed at him intently, much too bright and with a tint of wild. The strong chest under his hand heaved with raged breaths, breaths that burned his face with uninhibited desire. The light-brown hair he enjoyed to pet was sprayed with sweat, and some stray locks were matted to the equally sweaty forehead. Nor the musky smell of sweat and the fragrance of the oatmeal and almond soap, or the delicious aroma of lasagna and garlic bread could hide the rich provocative notes of his mate’s scent. A scent that enflamed his lust and drove his Alpha side insane with want. They shouldn’t be doing this. His husband should be eating, resting, drinking his medicine, and sleeping in order to recuperate his health. But the man astride of him refused to surrender to sickness.      

        “ _Oh, Dean!_ It feels so hot inside of you… _so good_ …I feel like I’m melting,” his Alpha husked in that double bass timbre that always managed to short-circuit Dean’s brain, and cater to the most shameless parts of him.  

         Cas has always been a vocal lover, another thing that drove Dean bonkers and encouraged him to also join in the sexy talk. It was extremely satisfying to see, how each word that rolled off of his tongue affected his husband’s behavior and reactions. Egging his man on with genuine moans, curse, and cries always resulted in having difficulty sitting or walking the next day or two, and he downright _craved_ it.  

           A sudden whine leaped out of his mouth, effectively cutting-off his chuckling. “Ah! Shit! _Ca-s_! _Cas, fu-_ fuck me harder… _mmm_ …Nn!”

       “You like it, right? Being bluntly stabbed by my cock and stretch by my knot,” Cas murmured as his hips pistoned upward sharply, wrenching a loud cry from his omega who momentarily lost balance, and almost fell sideways if Castiel’s swift hands didn’t ground him.

          “Dean! Dean, I’m sorry. Please, don’t push yourself. Your body needs-”

           Leaning in up close, Dean’s blazing breaths roasted his lips, and once a hairbreadth away, Dean hurriedly sealed his mouth with broken shuddery whines smothered between them. His mate’s mouth was a furnace, hot and dry and seeking to be sated. Languid tongues brushed florid lips and explored lonely corners, painted parched palates and entwined with one another; teeth teased the sensitive skin of aroused mouths as nails dug deep into slightly soft skin, and hips met half way in uncoordinated thrusts that left them both gasping for air.

          “Yeah. I feel like ‘m dying, but these two places down here feel as alive as always. So, don’t you dare stop, Castiel, or I swear to God-” his omega breathed as he brought one of Cas’s hands down to touch his twitching dick and the other to where their bodies connected as one. Both hands easily becoming wet and sticky with the proof of Dean’s pleasure and Cas’s thorough loving.

           “Don’t bring God into this, Dean. There’s only place for you and me in this bed.” Cas punctuated each word as he rammed into him with calculated rhythmic movements, yet it was his Alpha’s knot swelling up and catching on his rim that prompted Dean’s hands to scramble to find support curling around his husband’s corded shoulders.

Dean was so full and stretched and he wished he could always feel this way. Brimming with Cas’s love, with the physical proof of it.

        “ _Ahhh!_ _Caasss,_ more…gi-give me, _nn!_ ” He had to forcibly shut his eyes, despite wanting to drink in his Alpha’s heavy-lidded incinerating irises, and blissed-out expression, if he didn’t do so, he risked fainting and missing the fun. Every time Cas’s fingertips flicked the head of his cock and his thumb rubbed at his slit, or his finger pads tweaked and pulled his nipples, or his glowing eyes gazed into him, or his mate littered his hands with reverent kisses and sucked the tips of his fingers and took in deep breaths of his scent, Dean felt the fleet-footed steps of his orgasm drain his strength.

         Dean’s skin was being charred by the fever, but at the same time frozen by a veil of sweat, and his body assailed by intense tremors that shook him to his bones. He was being wrecked by passion and pain, yet the pleasure given by Cas was much more overwhelming. The mating bite on the lower left side of his neck pulsated and the long-time healed teeth marks stung, instinctively one of his hands went to touch it. The pair of panties still on him were wet with pre-come, slick, and sweat, rumpled and the bow unmade. He’ll try to save them, but maybe he should stock up on more.

          Pumping his neglected cock up and down with practiced flicks of wrist as well as thrusting into him with sharp deep rolls of hips, Cas was pushing him closer and closer to the edge, hurrying him to plummet and soar all at once. If the fever didn’t kill him maybe his orgasm will.

         Castiel rubbed Dean’s drawn up and tense balls and stroke his cock, while the willful creature atop of him grind down on his throbbing length. His omega’s hole was a ravenous beast delighting in the stretch of his knot. Unhindered hips rocked back and forth, and then immediately switched to a discordant up and down tempo just to abruptly rotate like a windmill spun by cyclonic winds; it was as if his mate wanted to satiate all of his needs simultaneously. Dean’s and his own abdominal and chest muscles began to contract and their erections twitch in a series of vigorous movements, all the while, their gazes remained locked on each other, hooded eyes aglow as their hips crashed into one another in consecutive erratic thrusts.

          “Oh, _De-Deeeaaaaaann_!”

          “ _Ca-s_ , mmm…Aa…h!”

          Dean was clamping on Cas’s length so hard that he wrenched from his Alpha the first wave of his orgasm, at the same time his own climax punched out a throaty inhuman moan from him. Back arched and throat exposed, beads of sweat running down his temples and neck and between his shoulder blades, hands clawing at Cas’s taut thighs, watery eyes shut by the weight of weariness and lips parted by delectation—that’s how he reached ecstasy at the hands of his mate. Dean’s come splattered all over his mate’s sweat-licked stomach and heaving chest, a drop of it even made it to the corner of Cas’s mouth, which his husband tongue voraciously licked up. If he had the ability to come again, he was sure he would have done so at that moment.

        His Alpha was a gentle and generous lover, always putting Dean’s needs and wants first, and he wouldn’t change it for anything. But there was also a rough and savage and commanding side to his husband; the side that made Dean beg for his knot and to plow into him like there’s no tomorrow and lured out his most basic omega instincts.  

           He rode his Alpha’s knot so hard, that his orgasm felt even more intense than usual, causing him to see phosphene before his vision went pitch-black, and then lost consciousness. Though, that might also be a consequence of his spiking fever. If he was gonna die, there was no better way than going out fucking his mate.

**********

           Dean either blackout for thirty plus minutes or his husband’s knot resided in record time because he was worried. When he came to, they were no longer tied together; he was on his back and his body had been cleaned, he was wearing a pair of gray/green plaid pajamas and covered up to his chest with the white comforter, a cold compress pressed to his forehead and the candles had been blown off. The tray with dinner had been taken away and the music silenced, the smell of a recently showered Cas flooded his nostrils like fresh eucalyptus, yet the heady scent of their coupling still permeated the air, which elated his omega side. His Alpha sat on the edge of the bed in blue/black pajamas, one tender hand carded through Dean’s hair and the other caressed his flushed cheek. He didn’t feel like he was burning at the stake anymore, but he was so thirsty and his muscles still ached. Nevertheless, he didn’t regret the wild ride he took, because his entire body inside and out tingled deliciously.

          He couldn’t even lift a finger to touch his man like he wanted, he could barely keep his eyes open enough to decry the concern staining his mate’s gaze. Cas had always been a worrier.

           “Hello, Dean. How are you feeling, gorgeous?”

          Dean didn’t know if he would be capable of making his parched vocal cords form words, and his tongue seemed to have gone into hibernation. But he gathered every bit of strength he had regained and breathed, “Thirsty. Water. Feed it to me.”

           The words seemed to be precisely what his husband needed to hear, and the effect Dean was trying to accomplish, because the worry in sapphire eyes evanesced and in its place a soft blooming smile painted affection on ample lips. Soon enough the hands on him were gone, but not for long. Cas’s left hand went to support the back of his head and lift it from the pillow, he filled his mouth with cold water and then, as if a human oasis, his mate once again gave Dean exactly what he wanted. His man did this until every last drop of water in the glass had been drank.

           Cas’s voice lulled him into a deep sleep, as if he were the personification of Hypnos. But before Morpheus opened the doors to placid dreams, he felt the soothing ice-touch of his Alpha’s lips on his forehead— they whispered words that caressed his skin, at the same time robust arms gathered him carefully in the embrace of the person he loved more than he could ever express.  

           “Sleep well, Dean. Happy Valentine’s Day, soul of mine.”

            Cas’s words always felt alive, and these were like a zephyr that touched his skin and kissed it cold.

            “Night, Cas.”

            There was so much more he wished to say, but he was so tired. Tomorrow. There’s always tomorrow. And the day after. And the rest of their lives.

 

~FIN~

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you want more Valentine's Day fluff/smut here's last year's Destiel V-Day fic [Happy Valentine's Day From Moose](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5977225)
> 
> And here's the link to the Cockles V-Day fic [Mr. Ackles' Love Bug](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6024046)


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